Injured Gridder Gets Back In The Game Of Life

May 2, 1997|By JEFF MILLER Staff Writer

There was no need to go back to the football field, back to where his life started breaking promises and stopped making sense. There was nothing to be gained or learned or proved by returning to the exact spot where he took his last step.

So Kendrick English barely even looked that way on Thursday, instead turning his back and moving in the opposite direction, toward tomorrow, toward a future he is forming, toward the strange faces behind the so-familiar support.

You see, this wasn't a victim revisiting the crime scene. It was a survivor being celebrated.

"I'm pretty nervous, and I'm not sure why," English said as his wheelchair rolled toward the auditorium at Pine Crest School. "It seems a little strange being here again."

It had been 18 months and two weeks since his last visit. On that Friday afternoon, English was a linebacker for Stranahan High School. He lowered his head to make a tackle, something he did more frequently and efficiently than any of his teammates.

But the impact crushed one of his vertebra. He remains paralyzed from the middle of his chest down, and specialists say he has a 1 percent chance of walking again.

On Thursday, however, he was being compared to a man who could fly.

"We see Christopher Reeve hurting, but it seems so distant," Paul DiCapua said. "And we know we have the real Superman right here."

That's when the assembly roared, the students of Pine Crest applauding for English, someone few of them know. DiCapua was one of the kids who helped organize a fund-raiser, an event that produced $2,500, which will help pay for tuition at Broward Community College, where English begins classes next week.

They took his picture and shook his hand and introduced themselves. "I was on the other side of the ball that day," one boy said. Then they presented English with a giant check.

And they thanked him.

That's the most telling thing in this story, which is full of such symbolism. English, 19, the one on the receiving end of all the attention, the one whose life can never be the same, continues to alter the lives of so many others.

"He changes the way I am every day," said Tyrone Williams, who serves as one of English's aides. "I was the type of person who drove fast all the time, 100, 110 mph. I was reckless, dangerous. Now, I'm always within the speed limit."

The two are almost like brothers, to the point where they sometimes even dress alike. They debate sports - English loves the Heat, Williams the Knicks - and they routinely are together 12 hours a day, at least five days a week.

"But when I started, I didn't even think I could handle this job," Williams said. "I walked in, saw him lying in bed and he looked so tiny, so young. I thought, `There's no way.' That's how Kendrick is though. He has made me stronger. He has taught me so much about myself."

It's not always easy, of course, watching a child struggle, his body like a prison. Williams has heard English crying and seen him refuse to eat and at times wondered how long he could stay so sad.

"My job is to keep him out of that zone," Williams said. "These cases are all about winning. You can't let losing hit your brain, ever."

After the assembly had ended, after a short tour around the school, after a couple of final pictures, Williams and English were gone, heading to the bank to make a deposit.

As they pulled out of Pine Crest, they turned right, away from the football field.

Symbolism?

It sure felt like it on Thursday, which was notable for another reason. It was a National Day of Prayer.